Hunter shifts in the bed. Dahlia lays with her leg draped over his waist and her head on his chest. But it’s not enough. The cars outside, the sirens in the distance, the sound of someone closing a car door nearby—it’s all too much. He closes his eyes, and those sounds morph into something more. His body screams he’s not safe. He’s vulnerable—exposed—and he needs to be ready.
Zip crawls up his torso from the end of the bed and licks his chin. His movement makes Dahlia stir, and she blinks up sleepily to Hunter with his eyes squeezes closed and breathing rapidly.
“Hey,” she whispers and pushes up to her elbow. “Hunter,” she says with more authority, and his eyes spring open. Her heart breaks at the pain etched in his features. His amber eyes are full of terror. “I’m here. What can I do?”
Zip inches up farther, completely laying on Hunter’s chest. “It’s all so loud,” he says, sweat beading on his forehead.
Dahlia brushes a hand down his arm and orders Zip to move by snapping her fingers. She swings the blankets off and pulls on a pair of jeans and a shirt. “Get up,” she tells Hunter.
“Dahlia,” he sighs. “There isn’t anything you can do. It’s me.”
She grabs his jeans and a shirt and throws them at him. “Get up. That’s an order.”
Hunter reluctantly does as she asks. Once they’re both dressed, they quietly creep down the stairs. “It’s three in the morning. What are you—”
She cuts him off by placing a finger to his lips and hands him the blankets she carried from upstairs. “I’ll meet you out back.” When he doesn’t move and just stares, she gently pushes his shoulder. “Go. I just need to grab something from the truck.”
He arches a brow, and Dahlia gives him one more push before he listens. After she learned about why he moved to South Dakota, Carly mentioned stories of things one of her cousins went through when her husband came back in a similar state as Hunter. Sleeping outside seemed to help him. Dahlia knows it’s a long shot, but she wanted to be as helpful as she could this weekend. She pulls the hidden bag from under the backseat and walks around the house through the side gate. She finds Hunter staring at the stars in the middle of the open field. His shoulders look relaxed, and she’s hopeful he won’t take this next gesture as her trying to treat him like he’s broken. Not like his mom keeps doing.
“Hey solider.”
He turns and holds a hand out to take hers and pulls her into his side. “Hey my little flower.”
Dahlia’s cheeks heat and she hopes she never grows immune to his nickname for her. “I kind of have a surprise and I really hope you don’t get mad.”
She doesn’t wait for his response, instead she leads him to the trees, further from the house and the noises of the busy street. Surprisingly, the brick houses and fences block out a lot of it. Dahlia walks until she finds two trees that are perfect and she holds the bag out between her and Hunter.
“What is it?”
“It’s a hammock. Well, a two-person hammock. I thought—” she huffs and lies it all out there. “I know your mom has been treating like you’re incompetent and I’m not trying to do that. Carly has a cousin and well—none of that matters. I thought maybe sleeping out here would help, with you know…”
Hunter steps closer and tucks one of her wild curls behind her ear. “You packed us a two-person hammock because you thought this would happen?”
She stares up at him. How does she respond to that? What response is he wanting from her? She doesn’t want to make him feel less than anything. Because to her, he’s everything.
“Would it help if I said that guest bed is hard as a rock and this will be way more comfortable…possibly?” She holds it up like a child who just found the coolest rock.
“Are you afraid of me, little flower?” His voice drops lower, and he grips her chin between his thumb and finger. “Do I scare you?”
“No,” Dahlia says, but it comes out breathy for a whole other set of reasons.
“Don’t ever hold back from telling me what you’re thinking because you’re worried about how I’ll react. It is my job to make you feel safe and secure in this relationship and if I’ve done something to make you feel otherwise—”
“You haven’t,” she says quickly. “I saw the way you responded to your mom’s assumptions. I never want to be the reason you get that distant look in your eyes. That’s all.” She drops the hammock bag in one hand and grips his forearm that’s still holding her chin.
“Let’s put up the hammock, little flower. How is it you know me better than the people who raised me?” he mumbles, almost like to himself.
“Because I listen. I’m always listening, solider.”
His gaze flicks between her eyes, then down to her lips. Her breasts rise and fall with her deep breaths.
“Then I want you to listen very, very closely. Okay?” How he felt at her parents wasn’t a one-off situation. His feelings for her grow stronger every day and if he just told her to never hold back what she’s thinking than he shouldn’t either.
She wets her lips and nods. Her body hums in anticipation at what he is going to say.
“Dahlia, I love you.”
Her breath hitches in her chest. Did he just—? She knew this though…right? I mean, what they share and have together is way more than an attraction, but to hear him say it out loud makes it all real. She gets lost in the way his soft honey eyes look down at her, like he’s baring his soul to her and he’s utterly at her mercy. He’s making himself vulnerable, something that his entire body fights against, but he’s doing it to prove himself to her.
“Say something,” he pleas, worry lacing his voice. His grip on her chin waivers and she steps closer to him so her chest brushes his.
“I love you, Hunter. I think I have since you helped with that first wedding. I was just too scared to listen to my heart.”
He lets out a long breath and kisses her fervently. It’s pure passion, acceptance, and one hundred percent commitment. He doesn’t ask her to be his forever, but she’s already decided in that moment that this is the beginning of their happily ever after and it’s only a matter of time before he gets on board.